comfort food
by onestepheavy
Summary: two weeks after escaping the underworld and ebisu being reincarnated, yato is still emotionally constipated after failing to grant the commerce god's wish (among other things) and hiyori hopes food can comfort him (as per usual). her clumsy but thoughtful words warm his heart. one shot.


_two weeks after escaping the underworld and ebisu being reincarnated, yato is still emotionally constipated after failing to grant the commerce god's wish (among other things) and hiyori hopes food can comfort him (as per usual). her clumsy but thoughtful words warm his heart._

**_pairing:_** yatori

_**rating:** _T

_**disclaimer:**_ brooding yato, comfort, reassurance, mentions of character death, fluff, sprinkle of angst

_**word count:** _1,737

_**author's note:**_ I read this one minute and I think its good. I read it again and I get real close to deleting it! Oh well, you can also read this on my tumblr account, fortunategod. thanks, pals!

The sky above downtown Tokyo is thick with dark cumulonimbus clouds. The earthy smell of petrichor pleasantly floods Hiyori's nostrils through rushed breathes as she runs through the crowd of umbrellas and people that litter the sidewalk. Yato is a few inches ahead of her, managing to run in slow unexcited strides, somehow. It was so unlike him.

The rain pours hard over the city and flings some of the newly blooming cherry blossoms off of their branches, a mix of pink petals and dirty street water flows down the street and into sewer drains. The sight reminds the blue-eyed god of Sakura (the good memories, the bad ones more so) and as they slow down to a walk, Yato looks to the sky with a sigh. _This is one shitty day._

Hiyori frowns.

The pair make it to their destination, a dinky local diner just a mile away from Kofuku's shrine, the very first place Hiyori had shared a meal with her two boys. The food is delicious and greasy and all too perfect for a rough few weeks such as this._ It's too bad that Yukine's too busy training with Kazuma to join us_.

The restaurant is not too crowded and the half-phantom's belly starts growling as soon as she walks through the door, the smell of hearty American comfort food replaces the smell of rain.

As expected, Yato is as silent as he was on their way to the joint. His knuckles and wrists are covered in multiple bandages, a large strip covering the lengthy gash on his left cheek. It makes him look young and reckless, almost boyishly attractive, despite the agonizing situation he got the wounds from.

Hiyori notes, with a pensive look, how long it has taken for them to heal as a hostess sits them at a booth near a large window. Coolness radiates from it and Hiyori shivers, _what in the hell did Yato experience while he was down there? _

She thinks she can see Yato tremble under his indifferent exterior, too. His recent attitude almost pisses her off, she offers to take him out to lunch and he doesn't even strike up a conversation?_ The nerve. _Hiyori doesn't have the heart to be angry with him, however - not now.

Yato wasn't necessarily mean in this state, a bit snappy but not outright mean. He was lost, his cyan-colored eyes unintentionally searching for answers in everything they saw, including Hiyori's own magenta irises. Sadly, they couldn't convey her thoughts. Couldn't give him the answers he wanted - _or needed_, to hear.

The vagrant had been acting off since he tried to rescue the God of Commerce from the underworld, how unfortunate Ebisu's demise was. Hiyori was now an expert on reading Yato's demeanor during the course of their whirlwind relationship.

The brunette could see negative thoughts bubbling in his head and leaking out of his ears as he held his head with his right hand, leaning on the table and seeming very interested in water droplets clinging to the outside of their designated window. Hiyori hoped that tasty food might bring his eccentric disposition back. They ordered the same thing.

_Mom always did say that food was the way to a man's heart._

When their food, two plates with delicious looking burgers and golden crispy fries, are placed in front of them. Hiyori suddenly finds herself much more excited than her companion, "I'm starving, this look so good!" She says, hoping for a full, flamboyant reply.

"Yeah, it does."

Hiyori's heart clenches at his reply, monotone compared to his usual excitement (especially towards anything he can put into his bottomless pit of a stomach).

Her brow arches, mouth pulled down into a minuscule frown. She lets out the tiniest of sighs and clutches the hem of her baby blue pullover, looking towards a group of children playing in a large puddle outside. She notices their smiles, laughter, childish innocence. A light bulb flickers in her mind.

The brunette makes a realization, one of Yato's past as Yaboku. He was a God of Calamity and from the little information he has told her, his "Father" wasn't exactly his best friend. The man in front of her never had a proper childhood and that's why he's normally so rambunctious and eccentric. She misses it. She misses him.

Hiyori finds herself suddenly very determined to see that eccentricity again. She looks back to Yato, slowly munching on a loan fry, eyes still trained on the window seal. His expression almost looks pained and she wonders what he's torturing himself over. Hiyori's cheeks and the tips of her ears that poke out from beneath her long chestnut hair are burning a pretty shade of cerise.

She nudges his good leg with the tip of her sneaker. He looks at her questioningly, startled.

"What is it, Hiyori?"

"Are.. Are you doing alright?"

He purses his lips together, racking his head for an answer that won't worry her more than she already is. Yato definitely didn't feel like hanging out with anybody in the first place, but the man has a very hard time saying no to Hiyori Iki, all her sweetness and all.

He finds her recent doting over him endearing but he wished she'd take care of herself more. She was too devoted to him and the Far Shore, a sentiment that made him want to smile and vomit at the same time. _How long are we going to pretend that we'll be together forever, Hiyori?_

Yato averts his eyes from her and leans back, stretching his aching limbs. A sharp pain stings his still severely blighted foot and shoots up his leg. He winces.

"Yeah. My foot just hurts a bunch n' well.." _Every time it hurts, I think of how I failed._

"You're thinking about Ebisu, aren't you?" Yato quietly gasps and his stare bores into Hiyori but she doesn't waver. The brunette instead reaches over the table and clasps his bandaged hand in her own, it's cold and she's careful to not irritate his wounds. The lightest of blushes graces his smooth cheeks and Hiyori frowns contemplatively.

"Look, I know it's not any of my business, so I'll drop it in a sec but frankly I can't stand watching you beat yourself up over what happened.. Neither can Yukine."

"Hiyori.." His brow quirks up.

"No, shut up. Let me get this off my chest, dammit."

Yato is surprised at her bluntness and the command throws him off guard, irks him, but at the same time; the beginnings of a chuckle want to leave his mouth because_ wow, she's cute and her hands are really soft and she smells like vanilla and she's going to be the end of me._ He stays silent and basks in the warmth of her hands. How they envelope his cold ones and it's like he can see her getting under his skin again, sees how easy it is for her to do, how badly he never wants her to leave her place within him. She takes a deep breath before she speaks, food in front of them getting cold with every second.

"I.. can't imagine what the underworld was like. I really have no idea. But I do know that you wanted to protect Ebisu, and you did everything you could to make that happen.."

"Yeah, well, it obviously wasn't enough." He mutters, negatively, his cheeks are flushed in embarrassment at his faulty efforts. Hiyori's blood boils and her voice raises a few octaves, quiet enough to not make a scene.

"You had the entire weight of the heavens on your shoulders. You were blighted to hell and so was he. It's awful, what happened to him.. but what matters now is that you did your best for him and nobody else. What you did was.. incredibly selfless. He died a grateful man."

Yato remembers Ebisu's last few words. _I'm lucky to have met you, yato god._

The corners of his lips threaten to curve upwards, his bottom lip wants to tremble. He wants to cry, but he doesn't. Not yet.

"The only one who's disappointed in you is yourself.. So, stop being so angsty and smile for me, tie baby Ebisu's shoes for him every once and while, and eat your food. Dummy." He closes his slightly ajar mouth and gulps. _Smile for me. She likes when I smile at her._

She pulls out a five yen coin from her bag that's on the floor next to her feet and shoves it into the palm of his suddenly sweaty hand.

"That is my wish, ol' wise god Yato."

Hiyori risks a few seconds to admire his hand in hers before raising her head to grin at him and see the reaction in Yato's pretty eyes. She is surprised to see them watery, to see a soft smile, eyes darting from the window and back to her multiple times. He retreats his hand to rub his eyes with the back of his sleeve, stroking the coin between his thumb and pointer finger.

"Stop making me cry, Hiyori." _Stop being so good to me, Hiyori._

"Looks like I'm not the only one with overactive tear ducts." She shrugs and they both chuckle, finally digging into their food that's not as satisfying as it would have been fifteen minutes ago, but at least Yato is smiling again. The two order a caramel sundae and share it for desert.

"You sure do have a way with words, Hiyori. Like a wise old owl." Yato says, sucking the caramel off his spoon before going in for another bite.

"Uh.. thanks?

Out of nowhere, bright blue irises are burning holes into the young girl's head and she's suddenly very self conscious, cerise reappears on her pale cheeks. A cheeky smile unfolds on his face and Hiyori is frightened. "What? What's wrong?"

He reaches over the table and thumbs a splotch of caramel from the corner of her lips and pops the digit into his mouth and sucks on it, happily. She hates (and loves) when he flirts with her like this, she wonders if he takes these slightly suggestive mannerisms as seriously as she does.

"But.. you sure are a messy eater."

Imaginary steam radiates from her cheeks and she kicks him. They both think for a moment.

_I want to stay with this idiot for the rest of my life._


End file.
